Space is so important. Even with the most brilliant of ideas, it’s the space that someone creates, to allow it to come in, that makes it valuable.
The value of an act of communication (web page; poem; slide presentation; class) is successful when it meets the viewer—in his or her body, embodied presence, sensory experience—in such a way that the interplay of space and transmission of ideas goes in, intermixing with the minds of the audience, causing change that is deemed helpful.
We put so much attention on the content. And while that is important, the space around it must be equally important. Maybe this would be one of the things that could happen in (quietness cafes)—tea is served, the rippling of the waterfall in the background, a lovely breeze blows through, and after a requisite pause the speaker delivers his communication. The entire thing was part of the communication. (How could it not be?)
A cultural baseline is assumed when one puts out any media. Perhaps it’s a given level of patience; the ability to read the language, of course; the right amount of the right kind of attention, priming, readiness. All of this matters. The right skill is to be tuned in to the reality around us. The social reality, and how the realities of weather, space, circumstances, all surround us.